Change
by Reiji Neko Mitsukai
Summary: As he waits for a word from the doctors about his wife, Albert lets his mind wander. The other Dragoons wait with him in the tense hallway. What's wrong with Emille?


Disclaimer: I don't own anyone who was ever in the game.  
  
Author's note: This is from Albert's POV. I originally wrote this story a long time ago, before I even finished the game, so there's bound to be mistakes in it. I'll try to fix them as I get to them, but I might miss a few. So forgive me for any mistakes, and I'll try to give you a good short fic.  
  
Oh, and it also contains some spoilers for the game as well. Just thought you'd like to know.  
  
* * * *  
  
My name is Albert. I am the King of Serdia and, when King Zior sees fit, Tiberoa.  
  
As I pace the hallway of my castle with my eyes watching the floor pass underneath me, I wait for a word from the doctors about my wife, Emille. The screams had stopped just minutes earlier and my mind was racing. I am surrounded by my friends, guards, and subjects, six of which are companions very dear to me. They are all wearing the same outfits they were wearing during our journey nearly three years ago, which has become a small tradition we have started; every time a Dragoon visits another, they wear the same armor and clothing from back then.  
  
Dart, previously the Dragoon of the Red-Eyed Dragon and now the Divine Dragoon, stands leaning against the wall opposite from the door behind which my wife lay surrounded by doctors and nurses. His wife, Shana, previous Dragoon of Light, sits on a chair next to him. They were married shortly after they had returned home to Seles. Emille and I had attended the wedding. They had no children, but the thought was on their minds.  
  
Hashel also leans against the wall next to Dart. Age still hasn't caught up with him, as he still practices his martial arts daily. His sense of humor and ready smile has been of a great help to me these past few hours in which the entire castle has been flooded with tension. I believe he has been hinting for a great-grandchild, which is how the idea reached Dart and Shana.  
  
Kongol stands straight beside Hashel, his large arms folded across his broad chest. His martial arts training is going well, as he is a fast learner. He is also learning a larger vocabulary, and is practicing making complete short sentences properly.  
  
Meru has lost some of her childish energy over the years, but I can easily tell she is anxious and impatient. She leans to one side and starts tapping her foot for a little while, then leans to the other side and starts tapping the other. She has been doing this for hours now, and shows no sign of stopping, just like myself with my pacing.  
  
Miranda is, well, still Miranda. Short tempered and a bit aloof at times, she placed herself last of the row, leaning against the wall with her arms folded tightly across her chest. She tries not to show how much the situation affects her, but I can easily see the excitement in her eyes.  
  
These people are six of my dearest companions that I could trust my life with. We have been though much together. We have laughed, cried, and walked together though the most difficult of times and survived the worst. We all have images that were permanently burned into our minds during our journey; mine being that fateful day in Hellena when my best and most loyal friend was violently taken away from me.  
  
I stop pacing, my eyes still staring at the floor.  
  
Lavitz...  
  
You were always there for me; you were my very first friend, even since before I had claimed the throne. After you became a knight, your dream to walk in your father's footsteps had come true. Yet you remained my friend, loyal through the best and worst of times. You were the best friend I could ever ask for. And you still gave up your life for me. Your heart had just been pierced, and yet the first thing you asked was if I was all right.  
  
I pull out the Dragoon Spirit of the Jade Dragon. The green gem faintly pulses its green light as my eyes move from the floor to the object in my hand.  
  
This is the last gift you ever gave me. This precious stone is still full of power, even after all the times I had called upon it. I will treasure it forever. Just as I will my memories of you.  
  
I tightly clench the stone in my fist. Your tale will not be swept away by the wind of time. I will pass it on from one generation to the next. You will never be forgotten. Never.  
  
The door that I was pacing in front of, now located behind me, suddenly and quickly opens and startles everyone in the hallway, myself included. Everyone looks at the door as I quickly turn, putting the Dragoon Spirit away. Lena, Emille's dark-haired nurse, emerges from the room and, after a look around, sees me and quickly walks to me. Wordlessly she begins to urgently usher me to the room, offering me no explanation but her dark eyes telling me that it was important. A part of me begins to dread that something has gone wrong. A similar thought has occurred to my friends as well, as I see the apprehension and concern on their faces before I am ushered into the room. I am sure there is a similar expression on my face as well.  
  
Once I am inside, Lena shuts the door behind us. The light in here is dimmer than in the hallway, and it takes my eyes a few moments to adjust to the change. Three doctors are lined up quietly to the side, respectfully nodding in greeting. Their expressions are unreadable. A nurse sits in a chair by the bed, removing a washcloth from Emille's forehead and placing it back in a basin full of water. My wife is sitting up in the bed, her back cushioned with pillows. Her long blonde hair is tied up as it usually is. Her face is red and her bangs are stuck to her forehead with water and sweat. The heavy blanket of the bed comes to a stop at her waist, revealing her still wearing her nightgown, since it was nearly dawn when the entire situation started. Her blue eyes watch me approach her, looking dull and exhausted, yet happy. A faint smile lightens her features as she moves the bundle in her arms so I can see it better. There in her arms, wrapped in clean cloths, peacefully sleeps a newborn baby.  
  
Lena smiles and speaks softly. "Congratulations, Your Majesty. It's a healthy baby boy."  
  
My mind, which had been racing just moments before, comes to a sudden and grinding halt.  
  
My son...  
  
Emille carefully hands the bundle to Lena, who gives him to me with just as much care. I numbly accept him and cradle him in my arms, looking down at the tiny face that would change everything about my life.  
  
At this moment, I feel something change inside of me. I am no longer just a king. I just became so much more. I became a father. This baby that I hold in my arms is the future of our country, but above all else, my son.  
  
I am a father.  
  
Emille lets her head rest against the pillow underneath her back. "I think he looks like someone you used to know," she says with a tired smile.  
  
I look at her for a moment, my eyes still blank from the importance of the moment. Then I turn my head back to my son and look at him closely. His eyes are still closed, as he is still sleeping. Underneath the cloths fashioned to look like a hood of a sort, small strands of hair emerged just within the shadow of the hood. Readjusting my hold on the little bundle, I carefully push back the hood with my right hand. He has hair a shade between Emille's and my own. My lower jaw drops as I realize how familiar the color is to me. It was a bit blonder than mine...  
  
Just like Lavitz.  
  
It might be a coincidence. But something inside of me is telling me otherwise.  
  
I look at my wife in surprise, my jaw still down. After a few moments, I manage to speak.  
  
"It appears his name... has already been chosen..."  
  
She nods slowly, still smiling.  
  
I finally manage to close my mouth as I look back at my son. He still sleeps, blissfully unaware of the fact that he is the center of attention. I gently touch the delicate golden strands. They look so fragile, like the slightest breeze would shatter them. But no, they bend under my touch.  
  
"Your Highness," says Lena's voice. "You need to get some sleep; you must be exhausted."  
  
"Yes." Emille closes her eyes for a moment before opening them again, this time looking at me. Her smile remains. "I assume Albert will want to show his friends our son?"  
  
I nod and smile at my wife. We had already agreed that we would try to raise the baby ourselves as much as our busy schedules would allow. It was different from how a baby is usually cared for in a castle, but we felt it was for the best.  
  
I turn to the doctors, who had remained silent. "Mark in your records that on this day, Prince Lavitz of Serdia was born."  
  
The doctor closest to my wife bows. "Yes, Your Majesty."  
  
I turn to my wife, still smiling. I reach down and gently put my right hand to the left side of her face. Her tired blue eyes look up into mine as I look into hers. She has worked hard to give me such a wonderful gift, and she deserves as much rest as she needs. "Sleep well, my love."  
  
Too tired to speak her response, she simply nudges her head into my hand slightly as she closes her eyes. After a few moments, her breathing slows to a regular pace as she falls asleep. I slowly remove my hand and bring it back around the bundle in my arms. I turn to leave the room and Lena moves to open the door for me. I nod and smile my thanks to her. I couldn't have been a happier man right then. My wife is sleeping comfortably, my healthy newborn son is sleeping in my arms, and I would soon be surrounded by my closest friends to share this morning of joy with.  
  
Lena quietly shuts the door behind me. All of my friends get to their feet and take a step towards me as I appear. I watch them and simply smile, holding up my bundle so they could see him better.  
  
Shana is the first to approach me and look at the child in my arms. Immediately she smiles and brings both hands to her heart. "Oh, it's adorable!"  
  
Dart is next, moving to stand next to his wife. A smile smaller than hers appears. "Is it a boy or girl?"  
  
"Boy," I simply reply.  
  
The others begin to crowd around me as well.  
  
"Oh my gosh! He's so cute!" exclaims Meru quietly; keeping in mind that my son is sleeping.  
  
"He... is... small," Kongol says slowly, glancing at Hashel to see if he said it right. Hashel just nods and smiles.  
  
"Of course he's small," says Miranda. "He's just a baby." The corners of her mouth were edging upwards into a smile.  
  
"What's his name?" asked Hashel, looking from my son to me.  
  
I hesitate, looking at my son in my arms. They all knew about Lavitz; they were all told of his heroic end and seen his portrait that was painted by the artist in Bale. They had all been there when we met him in Mayfil and saved his spirit from Zackwell. Surely old wounds and memories of bygone days would come back to Dart, Shana, and myself. Nevertheless, they did ask for his name, so...  
  
"His name..." I pause, looking back up at my friends. "... is Lavitz."  
  
Dart's usually sharp blue eyes soften. The loss of Lavitz was a blow that hit both of us the hardest. He was a dear friend to both of us. Dart would understand my reasons for naming my son after him. I know it.  
  
"He was too great of a man to be forgotten," I reason. "If it wasn't for him, I would have been dead long ago and Serdia would have been under the tyrannical rule of Emperor Doel. He deserves to be remembered."  
  
"I'm sure he would've been honored," assures Dart.  
  
"He'll never replace Lavitz. No one can," offers Hashel. "But he'd be a living remembrance of the man he was."  
  
I nod as I look back down at my son. Hashel is right. There is no way my son could ever replace Lavitz. But that does not matter; it is not the reason I named him such.  
  
It was sudden. In the time it takes my heart to beat, my son's eyes open. They are a soft brown, just like my own. And as he looks directly at me, I can read what they are telling me. He knows. He knows that he is looking at his father who would risk life and limb just to keep him safe. They are trusting and calm, seemingly unaware of the faces hovering over him. He sees only whom he wants to see: me, his father.  
  
Another moment passes, and my son closes his eyes again, going back to sleep. The miraculous moment ends just as quickly as it came.  
  
"Oh, he has your eyes!" I hear Meru exclaim quietly in an awestruck voice. So I wasn't seeing things; he really did look at me.  
  
The door opens again and we all turn our heads to see who is leaving the room. Lena steps out, leaving the door open behind her. She stands in front of me and smiles.  
  
"The doctors say that Her Highness Queen Emille will be asleep for the rest of today. Young Prince Lavitz should be put to bed in his crib as well."  
  
I nod in agreement and carefully hand her the sleeping infant.  
  
"And I highly advise the gathering to be moved somewhere else, Your Majesty. We want Queen Emille to get as much rest as possible."  
  
I nod again. "Yes. You are quite right." I turn to my friends. "My fellow Dragoons; let's all go to the courtyard to enjoy this beautiful morning until breakfast is served."  
  
The Dragoons are the first to begin to leave, followed by the guards and subjects, who I feel sure will spread the news of the new prince being named after the former Head of the First Knighthood around the castle.  
  
I suddenly feel a hand come to rest on my left shoulder.  
  
"It's a wonderful feeling, isn't it?"  
  
I turn my head to see Hashel smiling at me. I say nothing as he steps up next to me.  
  
"Becoming a father, I mean."  
  
I nod once, my mind racing to find a way to describe how it felt. No words could make anyone accurately understand what it felt like. Except, maybe, another father. "Was it the same for you when Claire was born?"  
  
"Pretty much," he says as he nods. "But she didn't wake up when I held her." He chuckles as we start walking. "That girl could certainly sleep when she put her mind to it."  
  
We emerge from the hallway into the dining hall. Sunlight pours in from the four open windows, covering my companion and I in the warm light. We both approach a window to gaze at the city below. People are already out and about the streets, mostly women who are preparing to make breakfast for their families.  
  
"It'll be hard," says Hashel as he lets his forearms rest on the windowsill and he leans forward slightly. "I can't lie to you. It's a huge responsibility. It'll be especially hard for you and Emille, since you already run the country of Serdia."  
  
"It would be too late to change my mind anyway. Not that I am having second thoughts. I already knew of the difficulties before Lavitz was conceived. That was something Emille and I had agreed to before we decided to try to have a child."  
  
"Good." I see him stretch his arms over his head from the corner of my eye. "I suppose you'll have to let the public know of the prince's birth today, huh?"  
  
I nod once. "At about noontime would be appropriate. The messenger I sent to get you and the others said you were all far from awake. I think I should give the rest of the city time to wake up properly."  
  
Hashel resumed leaning on the windowsill. "True, it was pretty early. But your son couldn't have picked a better morning to arrive."  
  
The smile on my face still refused to fade, as it would for a long while yet. "Yes; I believe you are right Hashel. It couldn't be a better morning."  
  
* * * *  
  
Author's note: I like this one. I think it's cute. Do you think it's cute? If you did, I think you'll like the next one I'm going to write. It'll be cute, and kind of silly too. 


End file.
